Life or something like that
by PoppyPotter
Summary: A mix of drabbles and one-shots, some long and some short, covering the lives of characters from different eras. Latest chapter James and Lily.
1. Rose Weasley

**Hello! So, I just found a whole load of short stories that I've started and never finished saved on my phone (there's even more on my laptop). Rather than just delete the lot or post them all as one-shots I've decided to put them all here. They'll cover a range of characters, eras and themes. I hope you enjoy them and please review!**

Rose Weasley

Sometimes she just wants to read. Get lost in a never ending book, far away from reality. Her life, she knows, is already like a muggle fairy tale. There is magic, of course, and a castle and her family are, well, practically royalty. They're the family that are always in the Prophet; her uncle and her father headlining the news. Her mother and aunts robe choices feature in _Witch Weekly_. They're the family that everyone talks about; the one everyone stops and stares at. It's a fairy tale, one where she is the princess everyone wants to fawn over. Like Vic and Dom and Molls and Roxy before her, she is now the girl heads turn to see; is she really dating Andy Wood? Or is it the Slytherin Scorpius Malfoy who's caught her eye? Is it true the daughter of _Hermione Granger_ is failing astronomy?

The questions are never ending; they prick and they prey and sometimes its damn well annoying and then...then there's the fact anyone in the country would love to take a picture next to her and yes, her new hair cut did become the latest "do" to have and yes, it was amazing how she could be pulled into shop after shop to try on beautiful robes (that came free, of course) because they _just knew_ she'd be seen at the annual ministry ball... It was a whirlwind; the dream, the fairy tale in which she was the star and the whole world was clapping and bowing and caring but...she's a fraud.

It's the undeniable truth.

It doesn't matter that the latest fashion magazine has commended her on having style and brains. They don't care about her. She is not the princess. She is Rose, just Rose. And this is not her story.

Her parents, her uncle, her aunt they were the fairy tale; she's read all the stories, the ones where her parents become eternal lovers bringing comfort to each other during a war, one where her brave bold aunt becomes a damsel in distress, waiting with a broken heart for her prince...she knows not all the stories are true. She knows which ones are pure history, can tell fact from the fictional tales penned by the likes of Rita Skeeter. She's old enough to know the difference.

But she's also old enough to know that yes, maybe she is famous but this fairy tale, it isn't hers.

Maybe most people look at her twice when they hear the name Weasley, and yes, maybe it's true that her face has been in Witch Weekly thrice in the past month, but it _really _isn't her story. It is not her fame. And it most definitely isn't her fairy tale. That fairy tale ended one day in May over twenty five long years ago. It was a tale of love and pain, of death and dragons. It was absolutely full of magic. But it was her parents and everybody knows that after all the problems are solved, after good conquers bad, the tale ends. It's a happy ever after. Nobody wants to know what happened next.

Nobody cares.

Not really.


	2. Molly Weasley II

**Title; Outsider**

**Character; Molly Weasley II**

Sometimes you hate yourself, you really, truly do.

You wish you were loud and fun and adventurous.

You wish you were daring and brave and risk taking.

You wish you could, just for once, fit in.

But you don't, you _really, really_ don't.

You were a Gryffindor, that's not the problem. The problem is who you are. You're never going to be good enough, funny enough, brave enough. Liked enough.

Your family is large and big and warm and you? You just don't fit in.

Everyone has their roles.

Teddy's the big brother everyone goes to; he's cool enough for Fred and James, kind enough for Hugo, intelligent enough for Rose... And you _cannot take_ how everyone loves him so much, for Merlin's sake, he's not even family...

Vics the pretty one, but she's more than that. It would be easier if she was just a superficial cow. It would be easy to scorn. To think, well thank Merlin, I'm not like _her_. But Victoire's not just a pretty face; she's kind and sweet and volunteers to help anyone with their hair or makeup (except for you), she gives great advice (never to you) and she's becoming a healer. Part of you thinks that's part of your problem with her; why did she have to be the healer? It was _supposed to be_ you; the first Weasley healer (she beat you to it).

Then there's care free Louis, who again, you hate. Because he's braver and bolder and had the damn guts to do what he wanted and not care what anyone says. He's the one who gave up magic for a year for a muggle girl he met in a park. He's the one who follows his heart like it's the easiest thing in the world. When it isn't, it really, really isn't.

And there's Dominique who sticks with Roxanne...and they're the girls' no-one messes with. And you hate that everyone knows them and even though you get the better grades it's obvious that the professors would much rather talk to _them_ and you hate, _hate_ how much they swear because really, what is the point?

And you really, really, really hate how they're just another_ pair_ in your great big family. Like James and Fred who are so immature and yes, ok, funny at times. But really they don't understand the word _boundaries_ and, even though others don't see it, you know they can actually be quite cruel when they want to. (You know that from experience).

And then there's Albus and Rose. _Bloody inseparable_. And you think, maybe you hate them the most. Because let's face it Albus is a bit quirky and weird and shy and there was a time when_ you_ were the big cousin he went to (but you haven't talked to him properly in years) and then there's Rose...Rose, the intellect of the family. You really should get on but despite your shared love of Shakespeare and history and Transfiguration, you are too different. She's loud and funny and stubborn. You're shy and boring and a push over. And you hate, hate, hate how everyone else seems to love Rose just because she can speak and debate (whereas you turn red at the simplest word).

And there's Hugo and Lily and really you hate them for taking Lucy. Because once upon a time your sister was one of your best friends but now she'd rather be with them and she looks up to them and it's all _them, them, them._

And now you're stuck in an attic in your uncles old room and they're all _floors, floors_ below and you know, even though you haven't been down, that Teddy will be next to Victoire, who'll probably be trying to get Aunt Hermione to sit down so she can tackle her hair and all the others will be in their twos and threes and you know, _you know_ you're not being missed.

No one is wondering, _where's Molly?_

Your father told you so many times, over and over that family was the number one important thing in the world; _never lose your family Molly, never let them down_.

You sit now, your arms around your knees and a lump in your throat as you realise the person you hate most in the world is yourself. You hate that you're so shy, that you aren't fun to be with. Because you know that out of the whole family, you are the only one Teddy hasn't solved a problem for. You know that really you look up to Victoire _so much_ but she won't choose you to be in her wedding. That Dom and Roxanne are actually quite cool- you also know they hate it when you go to sit with them.

You know that Louis, who is so much braver than you, will not ask for you when he meets the family after months.

You know that James and Fred don't even consider you enough to joke with. Even though once upon a time, you used to be the one to stick up for them.

You know that Rose and Albus are so in their own magical world, you don't even factor in.

And you know that the younger ones don't even think of you at all. Your own sister hates you for being the meddling member of the family.

You don't fit in. You don't belong.

And you know no matter how much you try you never will.

By the time someone finally comes in to the attic, grumbling as they do so, you have already apparated home and filled two bags. You have your tooth brush, your clothes, your books, and your wand. Before you leave you stare at a picture on the wall, a picture of your whole family. The occupants of the pictures are pushing and shoving to fit in. You sit on the side; back upright, hands on your knees, not a hair out of place. A part, yet_ apart _of the family.

You don't hate them, you love them, but you really don't belong. Your hand reaches to pull the frame down before you freeze; somehow you don't feel like you have the right. A single tear falls before you apparate into the night.

By the time people begin to get worried, you've been gone for hours.


	3. James and Lily

**Love (not) at first sight**

It wasn't love at first sight as a lot of people liked to think. Eleven year old James potter did not think Lily Evans was the most precious thing in the word when he first laid eyes on her, rather he found her quite annoying (albeit amusing at times). The way she bossed people around, the way she sat next to Severus Snape (a Slytherin), the way she would look at him then turn away haughtily… It all drove him mad. Even the way her laughter could turn to a snort annoyed him.

She was different of course and usually James Potter liked different. Different was interesting, different was... Not boring. But Lily Evans' different was, well, a _different type of differen_t. It was the type of different that gave him that funny feeling in the back of his head... What was it? Ah yes, irritation. Lily Evans different was irritating. And so naturally she became his first target. He would throw paper at her head in lessons, stick his leg out if she walked past him, comment on her hair, or her eyes or anything.

Not that Lily took it lying down, oh no; perhaps if she had James Potter would have lost interest and left her well alone. As it was for every insult James threw at her, Lily had a biting retort. For every trick he pulled, she pranked him, and got away with it too. (No one suspected little Evans).

That was the basis of their... relationship, if it could be called that. Neither would claim they were friends. Because well, they _weren't_ friends. His friends were Remus, Sirius, Peter, hers were Severus Snape and a bunch of girls; Dorcas, Mary and Heera.

And yet they had...something. It was nothing but something.

A day never went by without them speaking (although both were quite unconscious of this fact). It wasn't always a proper conversation; in fact more often than not it was the passing of an insult, a reprimand, or a mere _Hey Evans_ as he passed her.

Things changed of course as they got older, as things always do.

He was no longer the cute first, second, third year that played pranks...suddenly he was James Potter, smarter, taller and if you took the Hogwarts girls word for it _hotter._

It didn't do much for his ego but inflate it. It didn't fail his notice that Nancy Gordon had missed a step when he passed by or that Natasha Williamson would always find her way near to him and the marauders.

Not that he was the only one that changed- Lily had undergone a transformation of her own- she was no longer the shortest in her year, her hair had grown out and was brilliantly red, her eyes were rumoured by Rufus Fungus, who believed rather lot of strange things, to be real emeralds. They weren't of course. But they may as well have been for all the boys that wanted to get lost in them.

And so naturally as he changed, she changed. They grew up.

When he saw her at fourteen with curves, and flowing red hair, and looking like a...girl it still wasn't love. He bestowed her with a wink and scored her a ten in _ranking girls_ game with Sirius. But there was definitely no love. He was however, still intrigued by her. He slowly began enjoying their alterations. Lily Evans was witty, that was a fact.

He noticed the way her nose scrunched up as she spoke, her hands flying wildly about (a health hazard in his opinion). Her cheeks would go a bright red and he couldn't help but move to pinch them. She fumed. He smiled. She was cute, he concluded.

In fifth year things escalated. He more than enjoyed their arguments and suddenly began to feel just a pinch of irritation when other guys approached her. He put it down to the fact that he now respected her. She was a worthy opponent of his so naturally, deserved protection from any other male. She loathed him for it, or at least acted as though she did. He was still sure he could see a flicker of smile, a hint of amusement in her eyes at his antics and so he kept at it, teasing her, complimenting her, chasing other boys away….asking her out and getting rejected. To his friends he was mad- to hers he was _Oh, so cute. _

But just as things seemed to be getting better, just as real hope began to form in his mind that Lily Evans would, one day, say yes, he messed it all up. Or Snivellus messed it up for him. Or maybe it was both of them. He wasn't exactly sure; everything just seemed, well, messed up and nobody seemed to want _clean_ the mess up so, they and their weird-flirty-not-a-relationship-or-friendship-thin g felt apart.

Sixth year brought with it coldness and silence and maturity.

It was boring, but later James would think that maybe it needed to happen. He wasn't sure how it happened you see, but somehow it lead them to become friends. Real friends, this time, not the imaginary-weird-relationship thing again but real friends who talked and laughed and debated; both were never sure how it happened; maybe it was the term project they did together, or maybe it was that she spent more time in Gryffindor common room now so took part in his discussions and laughed at his jokes, maybe it was because it was too hard to live in the past, or maybe they had both just grown out; neither was sure, but friendship it was.

It still, however, was not love.

No, love came much, much slower.

There was no exact moment in time that the emotion- one so powerful it was rumoured to be studied in the department of Mysteries-hit them, rather it swept in slowly. It came when she saw how he would do anything for his friends, it was when he saw that she always put others first, it was his determination, her stubbornness; it was his loud guffawing laugh and her easily blushing cheeks. It came when they sat up late into the night laughing and when he saw her in her cute fluffy pyjamas, it was when he ordered his mother's special homemade brownies just to make her smile, it was when she sat listening to him rant about Quidditch…it came from seeing each other at their best and at their worst.

It came from each accepting the other, faults and all.

* * *

**A/N;This is quite cheesy and short and not the best thing I've ever written but I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews would be nice :D**


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